


My spirit which yearns

by plopdropflop



Series: our little home [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Gen, Huang Ren Jun-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:28:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23103988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plopdropflop/pseuds/plopdropflop
Summary: Burnout - The state of emotional, physical, and mental exhaustion caused by excessive and prolonged stress. It occurs when you feel overwhelmed, emotionally drained, and unable to meet constant demands.Renjun's tired eyes trail over the words slowly, seeing but never comprehending. He's flat on his back, phone balanced precariously atop a pillow while his chin rests uncomfortably on his chest. The hoodie he's stolen from Jisung's closet has long passed the point of warmth and is downright stuffy. All in all, he really wants to scream.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun & Lee Jeno, Huang Ren Jun & Na Jaemin, Huang Ren Jun & Park Jisung, Huang Ren Jun/Everyone
Series: our little home [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1660615
Comments: 12
Kudos: 168





	My spirit which yearns

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't beta read... Please excuse any typos @.@
> 
> First work of the series isn't necessary to understand this!

Burnout - The state of emotional, physical, and mental exhaustion caused by excessive and prolonged stress. It occurs when you feel overwhelmed, emotionally drained, and unable to meet constant demands. 

Renjun's tired eyes trails over the words slowly, seeing but never comprehending. He's flat on his back, phone balanced precariously atop a pillow while his chin rested uncomfortably on his chest. The hoodie he's stolen from Jisung's closet has long passed the point of warmth and is downright stuffy. All in all, he really wants to scream.

Instead, he chucks the pillow to one side, buries his head into the mattress. He's no stranger to periods of times where his body was more goo than flesh; weighed down by weeks of activity with little to no breaks, unwilling to cooperate with any demands. It happens to every idol at one point or another, even the workaholics like Mark or Taeyong. 

The luxury of a break is far and few in between lately. A daily radio show, coupled with a concert, constant practices and recording sessions awaiting him every hour. His manager had stressed the importance of rest, warning him to not overload himself, yet here he is. Weightless atop his mattress with limbs heavy as lead and under-eyes darker than dark. Too tired to cook for himself, and tired because he can't cook for himself. A vicious cycle. All he wants to do is sleep. 

So he does. 

It doesn't work, not really. Life would never be so kind to Renjun, and as he forces his legs to trudge into the kitchen, he's not feeling very kind himself. 

An irrational sweep of anger overtakes him when he sees Jisung chowing down on a plate of waffles, probably courtesy of Jaemin, and as their youngest greets him with bright eyes and a gummy smile, it takes an unreasonable amount of restraint for him to bite his tongue.

When he grabs an energy drink out the fridge, Jisung peers at him curiously, saying, "you shouldn't drink that on an empty stomach right?" 

Renjun bites his lips in an effort to stay silent. Desperately prays Jisung takes the hint that he absolutely does not want to talk. 

And maybe Jisung does, or maybe he's oblivious, or maybe he's just used to silent acknowledgements after rooming with Jaemin for so long. Jisung is quiet as he shovels down his food, and in his haste to skip away, he knocks down a chair, leaving it unattended along with a dirty pile of plates and cups. 

Renjun snaps. 

"Are you really so lazy that you can't do something as simple as cleaning up after yourself? You parade around acting like you're older than you think you are, yet the moment you have to show some form of responsibility you suddenly become a five year old?" He says — no, yells — and he can't stop himself. 

"Don't you consider our feelings too? That we're too tired to look after your shit? To cook for you, to clean for you? We're not your maids, Park Jisung, and it's time to act like it," He finishes, voice dripping with acid as he revels in the way Jisung's eyes widen and water. 

It only lasts a second. The bitter claws of regret tear at his throat immediately, the guilt flooding his every nerve as he sees Jisung's lips tremble. The anger is gone, and he rushes to talk. 

"Jisung, I'm —" 

Jisung backs up, into Jaemin's chest. Jaemin, who had just entered and is looking at them both with wide eyes as he grabs Jisung to prevent him from falling. For a brief second, both Renjun and Jisung look at Jaemin, before Jisung is running away. 

Jaemin looks gobsmacked, staring at Jisung's retreating figure, mouth opening and closing with unspoken words. He whirls around to face Renjun, and the lack of anger in his eyes only makes Renjun feel worse. 

"Renjun, have you —" 

"Save it," Renjun huffs, harsher than he intended. He flinches immediately, but Jaemin only smiles at him, understanding.

The guilt increases ten-fold. Renjun brushes past Jaemin into his own room. 

Arguments are uncommon, but it'd be a bold-faced lie to claim that every member of Dream have never gotten into a spat with each other. Sometimes, lines are crossed, boundaries blurred, but Renjun knows that it always gets fixed somehow. But that doesn't mean it ever gets easier. 

Renjun is aware he's a little rough around the edges. Tongue too sharp, words too blunt. Some would even call him unfit for idol life, so far away from the flawless facade they were meant to paint on. But acting was never for Renjun, not in front of others and not in front of cameras. 

In the darkness of his room, old insecurities surface. 

Renjun remembers auditioning for SM, mouth clamped tight because he knows his crooked tooth was a sure-fire turn off for an industry who desperately clung to perfection. He remembers talking to his seniors, personality locked in a box, knowing that's his playful demeanour was often taken the wrong way. 

And it's not just that. It's that... well... Renjun never really feels good enough. He got into SM through his dancing yet everyone else always got more attention than him. Was always better than him. His vocals were secondary to his fellow vocalists stable range and unique color, his visuals buried underneath Jaemin and Jeno's almost doll-like features. Renjun was always second place, and it's not that he's being self-depreciating, it's just a fact. 

(Renjun remembers one night, in the yellow-lit glow of shrinking candles, confessing all this to Jaemin. Remembers being confused at Jaemin's horrified eyes. He'd denied Jaemin's denials, chalking it up to courtesy even though Jaemin was never not genuine with them. He doesn't like to think about it anymore, unsure if the reality where he's enough will ever be possible).

Renjun's never hated himself, but right now he can see so many reasons to. Jisung's crumbling face haunts every corner of his vision, his own troubles forgotten momentarily. 

  
He has his radio show that night. 

He doesn't want to go. So much so that he's bordering the edge of nausea, legs jelly as he trudges to the kitchen to grab himself a snack. He's wondering if he could take a sick leave or something, but then he'd have to consult an actual doctor and that's ten times worse.

The kitchen is dimly lit, the living room bare. It seems everyone had stuck to their own space today. He's almost glad to avoid any confrontation, but any relief goes down the drain when he comes face to face with Jaemin leaning against the kitchen counter, eyes on his phone. The stove is alight, a bright pink pot sitting on it. A gift Renjun got for Jaemin as a joke. 

Jaemin offers him a brief but genuine smile as Renjun awkwardly opens the fridge. He picks out another energy drink, brings it up to his mouth without hesitation. He notices the dirty dishes from morning had been cleared, and somehow it makes him feel so bad that his stomach churns sharply. 

Renjun's eyes flick to Jaemin, wincing when he notices him observing Renjun like a hawk. Jaemin's eyes had always been too sharp, too knowing, but it's in moments like these when it becomes truly unsettling. 

"You're stressed," Jaemin says. Not a question, a statement. 

"Aren't we all?" Renjun retorts lightly, picking the lid off the pot to peer at the contents. Ramen.

"You're especially stressed then," Jaemin says, setting his phone down. He walks over to Renjun, lightly nudges him away with his hip and starts to stir the pot. 

"It's fine, Jaemin. Don't worry about it," Renjun says, a little too curt, but it only makes Jaemin's lips quirk up. Renjun is only proving his point after all, by being so irritable. 

Jaemin doesn't say anything after that, his silence speaking louder than any possible words. Still, Renjun can't find it in himself to leave him alone, reclining on a chair while Jaemin rummages through the fridge. He pulls out a container of strawberries, a carton of milk, earning a confused noise from Renjun. 

"You don't like either of those," Renjun says carefully. 

"And you don't like energy drinks, but that's your second one today," Jaemin quips back lightly. 

Renjun bristles. "Jaemin, that's —"

"It's for Jisung. He's hungry," Jaemin says, cutting him off. There's a tension underlying his words, a certain drawl to it. 

Ah. Right. Jisung. 

"Is he —"

"No," Jaemin cuts him off again. "You know he's not okay, you know how hard he takes arguments. He looks up to you the most, Renjun, and you can't throw that back in his face like that. I know he's frustrating sometimes, but he's genuinely trying his best, okay?" 

Jaemin's words have an uncharacteristic bite to them, not that Renjun blames him. Jaemin was the one who had to look after Jisung the most in the dorms, gently guiding him and helping him with everything, and Renjun knows he would've shouldered the responsibility of calming Jisung down by himself too. 

Renjun can't think of a reply. Jaemin continues speaking, but his tone shifts. Suddenly, it's impossibly soft, and Renjun would almost prefer Jaemin mad at him to... this.

"Renjun, I know you're tired. I know you're stressed, and I know you aren't coping very well. That's why you should talk... if not to me then to Jeno or the manager or even one of the Way-v hyungs. It's not healthy to bottle things up like this, not for you and not for everyone else too." 

Renjun can't look at Jaemin anymore. 

"I'll apologize to Jisung," he says shortly, turning around and walking out, ignoring Jaemin's calls behind him. 

Apologising to Jisung is easy. In a way, Renjun feels almost bad for how easily he was forgiven, believing he deserved a harsher punishment. Instead, Jisung just flings himself at Renjun, tears streaming down his face and crying out his own apologies with hiccups. 

Renjun rubs his back and invites him to watch a movie with him. Jisung accepts readily, and he waddles in with two bowls of steaming ramen. Renjun doesn't need to ask who cooked it, he already knows, and it makes stomaching the food infinitely hard. 

But ultimately, as he holds Jisung through another one of his crying sessions (thank you, Train to Busan), he feels a little better. 

The radio show is tiring, but he manages. In the car-ride home, his manager asks if he wants to do a v-live. Renjun would normally jump at the opportunity, but here, he quietly rejects the proposal. Ignores his managers concerned eyes as he sinks into his seat, staring out the window, seeing nothing and everything all at once. 

There's a rift between him and Jaemin now. It's not big, it's not like they're ignoring each other or actively fighting. It's just... present. An undertone of awkwardness that he's sure the others are the starting to pick up on as well. 

Renjun knows why this is. He knows more than anyone, just how guarded Jaemin likes to be. How careful he is to show enough to satisfy, nothing more than that. It's never just to fans either; it extends to them in the same principle. Jaemin doesn't like people worrying over him the same way he does to them. 

But he opened up to Renjun anyways. Shoulders pressed together on Renjun's bed, the candle entirely burned out, Jaemin talked. About himself, his insecurities, his worries. A part of him he'd never stated so explicitly, yet he had bared it all to Renjun. 

The thing about trust was that it was a two way street. If Jaemin lay all his secrets at Renjun's feet, he expects Renjun to do the same. 

But here Renjun is, hiding away from everyone. 

It's a logical way to go about it, he thinks. He won't ever be able to pull a facade, especially not when angry, so isn't it better for them all if he isolated himself? That way he won't snap at them again. That way they can be happy, until Renjun pulls his shit together. 

His mind is made up. Jaemin can continue to be miffed. Renjun's just looking out for them. 

When Mark left, most people assumed Renjun would become the de-facto leader. He is the oldest now after all. 

But that's not really how it worked out. They don't have a concrete leader anymore, sure, but Jeno's the one that's filling in the spot. It's not surprising; Gentle disposition aside, Jeno was always someone who enjoyed being relied upon. A lot like Jaemin, except Jaemin enjoyed nurturing and helping them out behind the scenes while Jeno was their guide on-stage and during practice.

They all have their own roles like this, to each other and to the fans. If Jeno was the leader, and Jaemin was a mom-friend, Donghyuck was their mood maker. 

So where did that leave Renjun? 

The realization that he's not anything hits him so hard his muscles actually lock up. His stomach drops, and he feels nausea clawing at his throat, vice like grips that doesn't relent. 

He doesn't want to think about it. Doesn't get time to think about it, as a tentative knock sounds at the door. Without waiting for a response, Jisung swings the door open. He looks too awake, considering the time, but who is Renjun to judge? 

"What's up, Jisung?" Renjun asks, tearing his mind away from his thoughts. 

Jisung only smiles weakly. "I can't sleep," He says, quiet in the stillness of the room. 

Renjun doesn't pry, only pats the empty space next to him with what he hopes is a reassuring smile. Jisung is more perceptive than he lets on, whether it's just part of personality accumulated from nights of over-thinking or a byproduct of rooming with an emotionally constipated Na Jaemin, he isn't sure, but it's still impressive. 

Jisung sits down, curling into a ball, hugging Renjun's pillow. There's a silver of moonlight peeking through the windows, carassing Jisung's innocent face. He looks a bit like an angel, and inspiration strikes. 

"Stay right there, Jisung," Renjun says, excited as he leans over to the little side table where he keeps his sketchbook. 

Jisung flushes a little, when he notices Renjun's hands deftly guide a pencil over a blank white page, the graphite strokes light and careful. Still, he remains still as requested, though he tries to peek constantly, eager to see the result.

When Renjun is done, what stares back at him is an image completely unlike Jisung. Unlike anyone. It's horrible, the eyes off-centred and the lips too sharp. The proportions were all off, it's... horrible. 

Renjun's heart thumps in his chest. Why? Why can't he draw? 

Jisung leans over, noticing that he has stopped. His fingers brush over the sketchbook, and Renjun screams. 

Immediately, he flies back. Tears the paper up, crumbles it into a ball. Angry tears make it's way down his face, and he can't hold back the sob that tears through him. 

A mediocre singer. An average dancer. And now he can't even draw?

His whole frame trembles as he digs his palms into his eyes. He's just so... frustrated. Disgusted with his own inability to be good at anything, disgusted that he's so useless of late. Constantly tired, and for what? 

"Hyung?" Jisung's uncertain voice calls out. 

Renjun shakes his head. "No... No.." 

"Hyung?!" Jisung sounds more panicked right now, and it only fuels Renjun's hysteria. He can feel the line of his control pulling taught, can visualise the few seconds before it snaps. 

"Jisung, please leave," Renjun requests through hiccups. 

"I can't —"

"Leave!" 

Jisung flinches. Again. In the span of one week he had yelled at Jisung twice. Renjun had never known it was possible to hate yourself this much, the fact that he could be so harsh and not immediately even apologize only fuelling his rage. 

Not at Jisung, of course not. At himself. 

He doesn't register Jisung leaving. Doesn't register the closing of the door. He can only sob, cold and repulsed. His tears wetting the pillow as he struggles to breathe. 

Renjun doesn't remember falling asleep that night. Only remembers waking up to an empty dorm. 

It's neither Jaemin nor Jisung who confronts him, but instead Jeno. 

Renjun, with a massive headache and a more than bruised ego is shuffling through the fridge when Jeno appears, glasses askew and hair mussed up. He smiles when he sees Renjun; not his usual bright, unrestrained smile but instead something more soft. Understanding. 

Renjun looks down. 

"They went out," Jeno explains, before he can even ask. "Jisung is... on edge. Jaemin said he needed some fresh air."

"Oh," Renjun says. It seems like they weren't mad at him, but the guilt doesn't wash away.

"Renjun..." Jeno starts, hesitant. He's not the best with emotional beats, much rather providing silent comfort or company instead of directly addressing a situation. "If something's wrong... if you're having a problem, you should um... talk, you know? Try and fix it."

Renjun nods, absent-minded, ghosts of his conversation with Jaemin coming back to him. But Jeno had added something to it. 

Try and fix it. 

Of course. Renjun was an idiot! All this time, he was moping around in his room, doing nothing, crying over how bad he was becoming at everything instead of actually trying to tackle the problem. Renjun used to believe that time spent crying could've been used to figure out solutions instead. He can't believe he forgot that motto. 

A burst of energy rushes through him, and he beams at Jeno. "I'm gonna head to the studio," He says brightly.

Jeno blinks, taken aback by the sudden change in his behavior. But he must see that Renjun looks happy, so he smiles once more. "Alright," He says. "If you need any help, tell me."

Renjun nods, secretly knowing he would rather die than ask Jeno for help. Jeno was already shouldering so much responsibility; responsibility that should've fallen on Renjun. He didn't need to add onto that burden. He could do this on his own. 

Practice makes perfect after all. 

  
It works, for a while. His dancing gets better, hours and hours slaving away in their practice room paying off as his moves become more and more precise. The ache in his muscles is easy to ignore through the sudden burst of inspiration. He books more vocal lessons with his coach, begging for more and more and more until his coach frowns at him. 

"This is a little excessive, Renjun. We don't want to strain your voice," He says gently, pushing him out the room. "Get some rest."

The door closes. Renjun's world almost halts. 

Almost. Because he takes to finding empty rooms in the building, abandoned and unused, hidden from view to practice his singing. When the dorms are empty, a common occurrence lately, he pushes his vocal cords to its limits. At night, he takes a break in the form of his radio show, coming back at late hours only to head to the dance studio again. 

It's tiring. Draining. Exhausting. Renjun wonders if he doesn't have any ambition in him.

And eventually it stops working. 

It's a normal day, the four of them engaging in a casual practice session to avoid getting rusty. Except, Renjun can't do anything right. He keeps bumping into the others, stumbling on his steps, even forgetting moves that should've been ingrained into his veins by now. 

How is he worse than when he started? 

He knows the others notice. Knows that Jisung snitched on him crying the other day, judging from their concerned glances. Knows what they see him as. Weak. A setback. A broken chain. Mediocre at best.

"Let's stop for now," Jeno says, after they run through We Go Up. Renjun had constantly messed up his positions. The song they've danced to the point where they're sick of it, and he's still horrible at it. 

Jisung streches, a dramatic groan following. "I'm tired. Is there food?" He looks at Jaemin with wide eyes, ready to beg, only to find his hyung oddly pensive. 

"Hyung?" Jisung tries again, breaking Jaemin out his stupor. He blinks innocently as Jaemin smiles at him, though it doesn't reach his eyes. 

"Let's order takeout," Jaemin says, fishing around his pockets. "I'll pay for it, Sungie. My wallet's on my bed, I think. Go get it, order something you like." 

"I don't like phonecalls though," Jisung mutters, petulant. "They're so awkward."

"Jisung, it's takeout, not tinder. You aren't supposed to make a great impression," Jeno says with a laugh, but he takes Jisung's hand and begins leading him out the room anyways. "Come on, I'll call for you "

Amidst the banter, no one pays attention to Renjun. Not when the tears he had been supressing the whole week begin falling, not when his knees start to buckle. When he hears the sound of footsteps fading, he crawls. It must look pathetic, but if he's still this bad, it means he needs more practice. 

He reaches over to the stereo.

A hand clasps his wrist. 

Renjun gasps, and jerks back. Eyes wide and fearful, he stares into Jaemin's hard gaze as he lands on his back.

Jaemin kneels above him, hand still holding onto his. He's grasping tight, hard enough that it begins to hurt. 

"What is up with you?" Jaemin hisses at him, and Renjun is taken aback by the emotions clouding his voice. Even during their night-time talks, when they're at their most vulnerable, Jaemin had an illusion of control to him that was impossible to break through. But here? His eyes are wide, his hands are trembling and his voice is panicked. 

"What?" Renjun spits, defensive. "Are you gonna yell at me for messing it up? For crying in front of Jisung? For... for..." 

"What?!" 

"Don't play dumb, Na. You're annoyed, I get it, but this really isn't helping."

"No, you —"

"Just stop! Leave me alone!" 

"No!" Jaemin yells, and Renjun can see how much it surprises the both of them. Jaemin, who has never raised his voice against them off camera, Jaemin who was always the most patient in dealing with arguments. The most reasonable. 

"No, no, Renjun, listen," Jaemin pleads, tugging on Renjun's hand until they both manage to sit up. Jaemin grasps his shoulder with one hand, cups his cheek with the other. "This isn't about any of that. This is about you not taking care of yourself. You're overworking yourself! You aren't alright, we can all see that, so please talk to me. Please."

The raw desperation in his voice sends Renjun reeling, yet he can't help but disagree. 

"How... how is this not about any of that? The reason why I'm working so hard is because I'm holding all of you back... because I'm not good enough. I keep showing weakness, and that's not okay, because I'm the oldest Jaemin! But I haven't done anything for you guys and —"

"Stop! Stop, stop!" Jaemin cries out. "What are you saying? You aren't holding us back, not at all! How could you say that? We all look up to you so much. It doesn't matter if you cry, what the hell. We never get mad at Jisung for crying, why would it be a problem for you?" 

The words do little to soothe his heart. "Jaemin, you don't get it! I have to be good enough! You're all so much better than me, I stick out like a sore thumb, so I have to practice more. It's that simple!"

"No!" Jaemin refuses, loudly at that, and Renjun is taken aback by the tears pooling in Jaemin's eyes. He rarely cries, yet here... 

"Renjun, listen to me." Jaemin says, quieter. His hand trails down to gently tilt Renjun's head up to meet Jaemin's eyes. He smiles, and there's a painful sadness to it. "Whatever you think you are, overworking working yourself is never the answer. Trust me, I know this very well, and I don't want you to suffer the consequences. It's never worth it."

And _oh._ Renjun remembers holding Jaemin through the nights he shook with sobs, the pain of his spine preventing him from sleep. Remembers wiping his tears as Jeno pressed ice pack after ice pack to his back, remembers convincing Jaemin to finally get it checked out. Remembers the hiatus that followed, the comebacks they tried so hard to enjoy, the feeling of emptiness that never left. The awkwardness when Jaemin came back, the eighteen months of absence leaving between them a gap too prominent to ignore.

Renjun leans forward, rests his head on Jaemin's shoulder. 

"I'm sorry," He whispers. 

Jaemin cards his hand through Renjun's hair, uncaring of the sweat that drenched it. "It's alright."   
  
And perhaps it will be. 

  
Two days later, Renjun, banned from all activities reduced to lying around in his room is rudely interrupted by Jisung who barges in without permission.

"Hyung!" Jisung calls, obviously excited. 

Renjun groans. 

Jisung ignores it and pushes on. "I managed to cut a deal with Jaemin hyung! Hear me out!" 

Renjun sits up, interested. 

"Well, you know how I'm trying to become a vocalist right? And I think this is a good break to practice, so let's go together! That way I can keep an eye on you like hyung wants me to, and you can still practice," Jisung says, beaming. 

"Holy shit, that's actually smart," Renjun cries out, eternally grateful. He reaches over to ruffle Jisung's hair, laughing gleefully that the member-imposed activity ban was finally starting to end.

  
Chenle calls him that night. He's as loud as always, and Renjun can practically feel him vibrating.

"I'm sleeping over for a week!" He exclaims. 

"Oh? What's the occasion?" 

"I was trying to do the We Young dance, but I forgot like, half the steps. Let's practice together!" 

Renjun senses a trend, just knows deep within his bones that they have a groupchat without him where they gossip about his wellbeing. Surprisingly though, instead of irritation, he just feels a warm fondness that he'd never admit out loud. 

"Don't expect us to cook for you, Zhong Chenle," He says in lieu of a goodbye and hangs up. 

One day, he walks into the kitchen only to find the fridge covered in little strips of paper, held on by tiny magnets. Confused, he edges closer and squints at the words, blinking in surprise when it registers. 

"What on earth..."

"Do you like it? Nana and I stayed up all night finding those... they tweet some really weird stuff, did you know? I'm kind of scarred for life." Jeno's voice calls out behind him. Like a puppy looking for approval. 

Renjun is speechless, as he takes in the dozens of fan comments, all cut out and hung up for him to see. Endless compliments that brings tears to his eyes. 

"You guys are impossible," He says, voice trembling, and Jeno grins.

He gets a face time call that night. Johnny hyung? Confused, he accepts, only to be greeted with Hyuck's grinning face and an exasperated Mark standing close behind. They look tired, but their smiles are wide and bright. 

"We wrote you a rap," Hyuck says, shit-eating grin taking over half his face as his eyes sparkle. 

Renjun's jaw drops as Mark picks up the guitar. 

"To our shoulder gangster Renjun...."

In the confines of his room, hidden from prying eyes, he finishes the drawing. Seven gleaming faces stare back at him, every detail captured in the pencil strokes, expressions of happiness a memory he's burnt into his mind forever. 

A gift for himself. Something to look at when he's feeling down, something to remind him that he is loved. 

He closes the sketchbook and goes to sleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for making it this far! I've decided to make this a series, and if inspiration strikes I'll write other parts for the remaining members as well!


End file.
